


Deathbringer

by Leonhardted_Girl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Teenage Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonhardted_Girl/pseuds/Leonhardted_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an illicit night of stolen passion, hormones are running high and Armin is left questioning his heart's devotion to humanity, but when the 104th trainee cadets squad is plagued by the scandal of a teenage pregnancy he's forced to make a decision: the reluctant mother of his unborn child, or liberation from the titans? Aruani, EreMika; more pairings to be added in later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Be A Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Also published on FanFiction.net - please enjoy, comments and such are appreciated!

When he first joined the military as an unsuspecting trainee, he had no idea what his life would have in store for him. Standing between one of his best friends, Eren Jaeger, and a complete stranger, he quaked in his newly distributed uniform as one of his squad's commanders, Keith Shadis, barked his way through a long list of rules.

"First and foremost," he hollered, eyes bulging madly, "as trainee cadets, you must offer your beating heart to the good of humanity, and to his royal majesty in Wall Sina's innermost district. Secondly, you must be prepared to dedicate your life and soul to your training, and to the protection of your comrades, and finally, if any of you shitheads bring dishonour upon this squadron, you will be punished as severely as fits: no illegal substances or possessions, no excessive violence, and no sexual activity between cadets. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Armin fought to make his voice heard, drowning the unified chorus of hundreds of uncertain teenagers sacrificing their hearts and souls.

"Any rule-breaking," Shadis started, folding his arms behind his back in too calm of a manner, "and it's not titans you dogs'll be pissing yourselves over."

* * *

Well into his fifteenth year, Armin was accustomed to the brutality of training: while his muscles weren't as hardened as Eren's or Mikasa's, his body had become a product forged by intense physical labour and day-long sessions of hand-to-hand combat. His mind had expanded into fields upon fields of knowledge, a wealth of information crucial to his own and his friends' survival.

He wasn't quite a man, but he was close.

For the most part, he spent his days among amicable company, associating primarily with his childhood friends and the rest of the still-breathing trainees. Despite all of the different faces present in his squadron, he found his place relatively quickly, among faces giddy and grave alike. Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Marco, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Bertolt, Krista, Ymir, Mina, and so forth – they formed an alliance between themselves, going above and beyond the requirements of team-mates on and off the battlefield – sometimes there were arguments, especially between Eren and Jean, but each member of their group was essential.

And then there was Annie: their honorary pseudo-ally, the anti-hero of their social group.

She didn't talk much and she was friendliest with Reiner and Bertolt (despite the fact that her version of "friendly" didn't quite warrant the conventions of a stereotypical friendship), but she was a valuable asset nonetheless. She helped Eren train himself, and gave Mikasa a worthwhile sparring partner, and her mind was as sharp as Amrin's, just not as dedicated or as interests in academic pursuits.

Sometimes she sat with them, when they all managed to squeeze themselves onto two benches around one table, grimacing slightly as her shoulders were often wedged between Armin's and Sasha's; sometimes she spoke, contributing towards conversations with observations or anecdotes in a small but alluring voice; sometimes she even cracked a smile, or laughed on extremely rare occasions.

Annie was definitely the "lone wolf" character of the 104th trainees squad, but she wasn't as anti-social or as cold-hearted as people often claimed upon first glance. She was quiet in group situations, often preferring to listen instead of speak, and she was objective more often than not, but she was also kind in her own way, beneath her clinical stand-offish perspective. Or so Armin thought, at least. He grew to treasure her interactions with the group. In such a dark world, he needed the light of as many people as possible, and Annie Leonhardt shone like a star amidst a bleak, never-ending cosmos.

"Hey Annie," he called early one morning, having gathered the courage to propose something he'd been considering for a while.

She was standing away from him, leaning with her back propped up against a sturdy tree, watching as her classmates fought with one another over the control of a flimsy wooden prop. She raised an eyebrow when he addressed her, turning to face him with curiosity glimmering in her crystal eyes. "Arlert." She nodded. "What is it?" She brushed the curtain of her fringe out of one eye and behind her ear.

Armin grinned toothily, glad to have her undivided attention and a moment alone from the rest of their friends. "I was wondering if you'd spar with me." He smiled earnestly, stepping closer and abandoning the leather-bound book he was clutching to his chest, kneeling down to place it by the roots of the tree trunk. "I need the practice."

Annie regarded him with apprehension, before the faintest of smirks tugged at the corners of her lips. "You can't be serious." She murmured, but he didn't show any signs of revoking his request.

"I... I'm completely serious." He offered, staring down at her with wide and hopeful eyes. "I need to train!"

The blonde girl shook her head lightly. "Train with Krista." She told him. "Or even Connie, if you think you're up to it."

"I want to train with you." He insisted, straightening his back. "Come on, Annie. Just once, and then I'll leave you alone. You train with Eren and Mikasa, why not with me?" Armin pleaded, suddenly feeling inadequate and somewhat useless. Sub-par.

Annie glared at him, her smirk disappearing into a frown. "I'm not afraid of beating the shit out of either of them. They can handle it, and I can handle them." She explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "If we spar, Eren will have to bury you tomorrow."

From across the training grounds, Eren was busy trying to initiate an argument with Jean, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as Mikasa futilely tried to talk sense into them both from the sidelines, beside Marco, whose reasoning wasn't much help either.

"I can handle it." Armin reassured. "Just once. Please." He stepped even closer and lightly curled his fingers around Annie's shoulders, but she recoiled almost instantly, shuffling away and ducking her head.

"Alright, fine." She relented, unfolding her arms and walking towards the dusty draining grounds. It hadn't rained in weeks, and the mud was all dry and cracked. It'd hurt when she was slamming him into it, that was for sure.

"Really?" Armin beamed, forgetting all about his book as he jogged back over to her side. "You'll do it?"

"Sure." Annie confirmed once more, turning against him with her fingers curled into the palms of her hands, outstretched in front of her body. "Just don't complain afterwards."

"B-But we haven't even got a knife yet." Armin pointed out, suddenly a little concerned. He knew he was biting off way more than he could chew, facing off with Annie Leonhardt of all people – the girl who could probably toss a titan over her shoulder with minimal effort – perhaps that was an exaggeration, but she was yet to try. They were starting to attract interest, from Reiner and Bertoldt in particular, who were preoccupying themselves with whispering about how he had to have a death wish.

Annie raised an eyebrow, sceptical. "Do we really need one? How about the winner is the cadet who manages to restrain the other?"

"...Alright." Armin agreed, but the reluctance was clear in his voice. He steadied himself, placing one foot in front of the other, mimicking her combat stance, curling his hands into balled-up fists.

"Are you sure about this?" There wasn't any emotion present in Annie's words, just objectivity, as usual. She didn't care if she hurt him anymore, he was the one who wanted combat practice. She was offering him one final opportunity to walk away free of bruising.

"I'm sure." Armin insisted, gritting his teeth together and bracing himself. "Come at me, Annie."

And she did.

In a flurry of jerks and kicks, she'd managed to get him on the ground in seconds, holding him down so that his face was pressed into the mud. She forced her knee into his lower back, pulling at his arms so he couldn't move.

"Annie!" He squawked, spitting dust and dirt from his mouth. He could feel blood running down his top lip.

"Are you satisfied?" Annie crooned, leaning her lips down to just above his ear.

"Hey!" Eren called from across the training grounds, jogging over to where Annie had his best friend pinned. "What are you doing to-"

In an instant, Annie released Armin, brushing the dust off her trousers before offering her sparring partner a helping hand. "We were training." She muttered as Mikasa joined Eren's side. "He asked to be my sparring partner."

"He's nowhere near your level!" Eren argued, taking Armin off Annie's hands, holding him up by pulling one of his arms around his shoulder, but Armin tried to stumble away.

"No, really!" He wheezed, bringing his hands up to cup his bloodied nose. "I wanted to spar with her."

Mikasa shot Armin a look full of pity, frowning. "Armin, you need to pick and choose your battles." She chastised, reaching into the right breast pocket of her uniform jacket and pulled out an old rag, tossing it his way. "Here."

"Are we done now?" Annie spoke up, brushing her fringe out of one eye once more.

Armin nodded, holding the rag to his nose and mopping up the blood. "This time tomorrow, yeah?" He suggested, speaking into the rag, prompting three sets of protests.

"I can't-"

"You  _can't_!"

"Armin-"

"Fine." Armin frowned, taking the bloodstained rag away from his nose and offering back to Mikasa with a sheepish look etched upon his face. "Sorry." He mumbled her way and she nodded.

"Maybe if you get stronger," Annie suggested, averting her gaze from the trio of friends, "I'll fight you again if you train harder."

Armin wiped his nose with the back of his wrist, wincing. "Of course." He smiled. "I look forward to it."

"Did you hit your head?" Eren baulked.


	2. Three Become Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin finds the need to justify himself to Eren and Mikasa, realising that bruises should equate to progress; doubting his strength, he is reluctant to excuse his sparring sessions with Annie.

Over time, Armin found himself pairing off with Annie more often than not, which hindered him as much as it helped him: he spent his spare hours tutoring her and going over the lessons she'd skipped, and in return she taught him how to spar without earning himself one too many bruises in the process. Her lessons were nothing like his own. Where he was understanding and adept at applying himself to her level, at challenging her without pushing her too far, she was cruel and unforgiving. She didn't wait until he understood how to convert theory into practice because she didn't think that titans would wait either.

On the battlefield, Annie was a blizzard: cold and cruel and harsh, a merciless force of nature.

“Get up.” She ordered, her voice as quiet as ever, but commanding all the same. He didn't dare oppose her, seeing as this was her time he was wasting. She didn't have to spar with him; after all, Annie was the type of person who refused to be bound by obligation. Whether he was teaching her academics or not was out of the question.

Armin struggled to his feet, knees shaking under the pressure of the ache in his stomach. His abdomen was bruised, sometimes bloodied after their training sessions, but she was teaching him valuable skills, and with every fight he was evading one more kick, one more elbow. He nodded, struggling to suck as much oxygen as possible into his burning lungs. “Up,” he wheezed, arms folded over his gut, “I'm up.”

Annie watched him with weary eyes. “Come on.” She told him, offering him her arm. “You need to see someone, let's go to the infirmary. Untreated abdominal bruising won't do you any favours tomorrow.”  
“I-I'm alright.” Armin grinned sheepishly, attempting to mask his pained grimace with something akin to cheer. “These workouts- I think they're really helping me, Annie.”

Annie almost stepped back, almost took her arm away. “Yeah, well.” She murmured. “You asked for help, I won't deny. Just let me spar with someone else once in a while, I'm getting rusty.”

Rusty. It hurt a little to know that Armin still wasn't anywhere near her level, not even after weeks of daily sparring sessions. All he really had to show for it was expanses of bruised skin: patches of purple stomach and blue thighs and black knees.

“Sorry.” Armin offered, leaning heavily into his shorter comrade, draping an arm around her shoulders as she curled her fingers into the material of his jacket, trying to keep him upright.

“You're the reason Eren's reluctant to fight me nowadays, I'm sure of it.” She mumbled, speaking more to herself than to him. “It's not doing anything to keep me in his good books. Or Mikasa's.” Not that she minded too much, not yet.

Armin laughed nervously. “Yeah, well.” He tried to shrug, wincing. “They can spar with each other, if they're so eager for partners. Sina knows it'd do them a world of good.”

-

Later that night, Armin sat with Eren and Mikasa in the boys' dormitory, lying on his bed with his nose in a book, whilst his best friends argued between themselves.

“I could've handled it just fine.” Eren sulked, a hurricane forming in his emerald eyes: a storm ablaze, swirling with anger and passion and sheer determination. “You didn't need to barge in!”

One of the reasons for Eren and Mikasa's unorthodox relationship was that it was born out of absolute necessity, or so Armin thought. Eren was so hell-bent on slaughtering the titans that it became his cause; his reason for waking up at five on a morning, his reason for living and breathing, but he was in no way equipped to kill titans on his own. He was good – undisputably so – but Mikasa was better, and so he needed her. He needed her like a soldier needs a sword, like a bird needs wings, and then some: he needed her because they fought like siblings, laughed like best friends, and shone brightest hand-in-hand.

Mikasa's need of Eren was something closer to home, something more earthbound. She needed family, and she found it in Eren and Armin.

“Jean's strong.” Mikasa declared, as calm as ever. “And you're both stubborn. One day, you're going to hurt yourselves over something stupid.”

Eren frowned miserably, brows furrowing. “So lemme' knock some sense into him!” He whined, spitting out his words faster than ever, getting riled up again.

“You know, Eren,” Armin turned the page of his book, smiling to himself at his friends' antics, “if we ever get into the survey corps, you're going to have to listen to her. You'd end up with far less bruising if you just took her advice once in a while.”

Eren snorted, pitched halfway between amusement and sarcasm. “Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, his lips twitching at the corners of his mouth, unsure what this situation called for – a mocking grin or a somewhat disappointed sneer. “And you'd have less if you stopped pining after Annie.”

“Pining?” Armin immediately dropped his book into his lap, swallowing back a squeak as the heavy, leather-bound volume collided with his sore thighs. “She's helping me make myself stronger.” He insisted, eyes flitting to Mikasa's for some sort of defence.

“It is wise.” She gave a slight nod of the head. “Training. But perhaps you're training with the wrong person.”

“I'm not training with Christa.” Armin closed his book, leaning forwards. “Ymir would kill me, slowly and painfully.”

“So train with us.” Eren's frown refused to lift. “You're not letting either of us have a shot with Annie anymore, so show us what she's taught you.”

“I...” Armin suddenly felt guilty. True, he'd been taking up more of Annie's time than anyone else, but he'd also been neglecting his two best friends in favour of her company. “I haven't been meaning to ignore you guys or anything.”

Mikasa smiled softly, acting as the voice of reason to Eren's voice of extremes: accusation versus concern, because he didn't mean any harm. He just wanted to know why one of his closest friends was never close. “It's fine.” Mikasa told him. “You don't have to apologise for wanting to better yourself. Strength comes with time.”

“Though you do need to show us your strength.” Eren reiterated, and something told Armin that Eren wasn't about to let it go any time soon; whether it as the mischievous glint that'd suddenly formed in his eyes, or the ghost of a smirk crossing his previously down-turned lips. “We'll see how good of a teacher Annie is.”

“I'm not a charity case.” Armin protested. “I'm helping her with theory classes.”

“Annie understands theory well enough.” Mikasa said, pushing herself up off the foot of the bed. “We sometimes talk about classes before lights out, or about technique. Her bunk's above mine.”

“But she sometimes misses class.”

“The only classes Annie misses are the one that she can understand well enough on her own. She reads privately sometimes.” Mikasa adjusted her scarf and smoothed down her skirt, standing as tall as ever. “It'll be lights out soon. I'm going back to my dormitory. Goodnight Eren. Goodnight Armin.”

“Night Mikasa.” Eren mimicked her, bowing his head to her slightly as she left the room. “Sleep well.”

“Night.” Armin called, leaning over one side of his bed to drop his book on the wooden floorboards. He turned back to Eren, plastering an apologetic smile across his lips. “I'll start practising with you two more. I promise. But I'm hoping that reaching out to Annie might bring her closer into the group, you know? She might start talking more to Sasha and Connie and Jean. It'll be nice.”

“I suppose.” Eren grunted, pushing himself up onto his bunk. “Shadis said something about solidarity making for the best unit. The more arms, the better, the more linked arms, the best. I don't know, sounds dumb, doesn't it? A guy like Shadis saying stuff like that.”  
“I think he's right, though.” Armin mumbled, as the rest of their unit's boys started getting into bed. “Annie's a good person.”

Eren murmured an acknowledgement. “Sure. You should just be careful, you're trying too hard.”

“That's never stopped you before.” Armin reasoned, just before Shadis stormed into their barrack and demanded complete and utter silence, yelling at Connie for speaking so loud he could be heard outside the boys' quarters. He blew out the oil lamps hanging at regular intervals throughout the dorm and reminded the trainees of their early start the following morning, leaving Eren to once again question how such a formidable, intense soldier could believe so strongly in notions such as trust and friendship, though it probably was one of their only options; either that, or worshipping the Goddesses and their walls.

But then again, most military personnel only had enough time and breath to believe in each other. They saved their prayers for funerals.  
-  
The next morning, at breakfast, Annie surprised everyone by taking a step forwards of her own: instead of relying on Armin's fixation on keeping her company, she sat beside him of her own accord, staying even when Mikasa joined her other side and Eren positioned himself opposite. The trio became a quadruple in a single morning, when she started joining in with discussion in a quiet albeit firm voice.

“I was thinking we could switch sparring partners today.” Eren decided after swallowing a mouthful of rubbery eggs. “Instead of you two always fighting together.” He waved his fork between Armin and Annie. “What do you say? Three rounds: we each fight each other once. You know, to keep things interesting.”

Armin hesitated slightly. He was fairly sure Eren knew that his training sessions with Annie mostly consisted of him getting beaten up over and over again. He also had the suspicion that this was Eren trying to figure out his motives. “I don't know-”

“Alright.” Annie nodded, taking a sip from her glass of water. “Three rounds. The winner is the cadet who restrains-”

“I was thinking more along the lines of the winner flooring the loser.” Eren cut in. “If your back hits the ground, you lose. Deal?”

“Alright.” Annie nodded. Mikasa remained silent, although her agreement was obvious.

“Okay.” Armin decided, a little unsure. “But perhaps we should take it easy after that. Examinations aren't too far away, after all.”

“All the more reason to try harder.” Mikasa spoke up. “If you want high rankings, that is.”

Not that rankings mattered. They all wanted to join the Survey Corps. And then it hit Armin: he hadn't actually asked Annie which military branch she wanted to join.

But it didn't matter, not really. Annie was a good person, after all, and surely she only wanted the best for humanity.


	3. Petal-Bruised Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and his childhood friends, Eren and Mikasa, continue their training with Annie in tow. Armin's feelings continue to develop in the most uncomfortable of ways, despite Annie's reluctance to offer herself entirely to the prospect of three new friends.

When they were children, Eren needed no prompting to launch himself into fights on Armin's behalf; against bullies twice his height, against Garrison soldiers who sneered at Armin's bookish behaviour, at his own mother and father, who would occasionally comment on Armin's scrawny frame and pale skin. Carla Jaeger would worriedly whisper concerns to her husband whenever Armin knocked on her front door and scampered up to Eren's bedroom.

"Do you think Armin and his grandfather are eating well enough?" She'd chew on her lower lip and fret over nothing, whilst her husband would shake his head and smile fondly at his overly maternal wife.

"I'm sure they're fine, Carla." He'd reassure her, right before promising to schedule a visit to their household within the next two weeks, just to check up on their health, just to put Carla's mind at ease.

But of course, whenever Eren caught wind of his parents' mutterings, he'd grow defensive and weary.

"Armin's fine." He'd promise, eyebrows furrowing upon his mother's infrequent interrogation – sometimes, she needed to check up on Armin herself, and Eren was her closest means of gaining information – the only problem was her own son's defiant nature, and his natural suspiscion of his mother asking such odd and specific questions. "People are always worrying about him because he's little. And people always try to pick on him because he's little. He can't get a break."

Of course, Armin only discovered Carla Jaeger's hidden worries after Eren let it slip one day. They were sitting by the Shiganshina River, the three of them – himself, Eren, and his newly adopted "sister", Mikasa, though the two of them never referred to one another as siblings – and they were each doing their own thing. Armin had a thick novel open, resting on his lap; Eren was lying with his back on a lonely patch of grass, gazing up at the wide, open sky, and Mikasa was still adjusting. She sat too close to the river, with one of Eren's old scarves wrapped around her neck despite the increasing temperatures blessing their district with the promise of spring. She stared at her reflection in the water, eyes unblinking, refusing to speak unless the situation deemed it absolutely necessary.

"How are your parents?" Armin mumbled, coming to the end of a long chapter, where the two protagonists of his novel had finally come to a decision regarding their forbidden romance: dead dogs stay dead, and sick dogs are shot in the head.

Eren shrugged. "Alright. Dad's going to another town soon. Trost, I think. Mum's worried about us, as usual."

"Worried?" Armin echoed, closing his book on chapter thirty-seven, somewhat dissatisfied with the protagonists and their reluctance to try, to try and continue, to fight for one another. That, and the fact that the novel had so long left to go, which scared him.

"She thinks I'm too rash, and you're too thin, and Mikasa's too quiet." Eren frowned, but silence followed, and the three children were left with only reality hanging between them, choking their throats with the anxiety festering within their minds, because maybe Eren  _was_ too hasty and impulsive, and maybe it was starting to become a problem; maybe Armin  _wasn't_  eating enough, not even by the standards of their rationed society; maybe Mikasa needed to speak, otherwise she'd be too far gone to pull back.

Eventually, she did speak up: "Carla worries too much." She murmured to herself, although she could deny the gratitude and affection that saturated her tone.

Armin never would have thought he'd stand opposite Eren, not even in mock-battle. Eren was the boy who stood behind him, who stood in front of him when necessary, who stood beside him, but even with Annie's private tutoring, Armin lacked the physical power to topple Eren and his hurricane of determination: a storm born out of rage and necessity, because he needed to survive, and needed revenge to live on. It didn't take long for Armin to fall, landing painfully on his tailbone, wincing and crying out as Eren stood over him.

"Alright, okay-" he coughed, eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to manage his pain. "You win." He'd already predicted the outcome. As soon as Eren suggested the idea, he knew he was bound to lose, and for the briefest of moments he allowed himself to wallow in his misery: slowly but surely, he'd been building a façade behind which he could hide. An illusion of sturdiness. By enduring Annie's lessons, he'd grown more tolerant. His pain threshold had increased. His protolith muscles hardened and changed, and he had become the Earth: a soldier cut from slate, a man cut from marble. But he was still a ripple pretending to be a tsunami.

"Lasted longer than I thought you would." Eren beamed, offering a hand to Armin. He  _did_ manage to land a few blows to Eren's cheeks, and one to his jawline, but in the end it was Armin who'd suffered a blackened eye.

"Yeah." Armin nodded, easing himself down to his knees, trying to force air back into his lungs. "Getting better."

Eren patted his back. "Sorry about that."

"Don't mention it."

A few metres away, locked in their own little world, stood Mikasa and Annie across from one another: both were soaked in sweat and dirtied, blood and grime smearing their faces and knuckles, bruises forming across their skin, but neither party had fallen, and neither wanted to break. Although the pair didn't seem to interact much outside of the girls' dormitories, something was clearly forming, between kicks and punches and elbows to the jaw, the girls knew that they could rely on one another.  
"Are you done?" Eren raised an eyebrow as Mikasa struck her palm out at Annie's collar; an attack which the smaller girl barely avoided.

Annie shook her head, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Not yet." She grunted, and lunged forwards, aiming a solid kick for Mikasa's left shin, changing her footing at the last second – a tactic which Eren and Armin always fell for, but Mikasa stood firm – she grabbed at Annie's shoulders and pushed her back, causing Annie to stumble and trip, taking Mikasa with her to the ground. They rolled for some time, trying to overpower one another, but in the end Mikasa quite literally came out on top, pressing Annie's shoulders into the ground, straddling over her, her body longer and broader than Annie's, and more muscular in the long run.

"I win." She panted, and Annie conceded, nodding with her lips pressed together into a thin line, her hair matted with sweat against her forehead. She accepted it with a good nature, pushing herself up and accepting Mikasa's handshake when they'd both recovered enough.

Armin couldn't help his head from spinning. After seeing Annie in such a state, worn out and spent, cornered like an animal but still fighting, eventually accepting her defeat with grace and nobility; her thin vest stuck to her skin, her lithe abdominal muscles tensing, visible through the cotton, her hair knotted and messy, swept back and away from her face. It was pathetic, especially considering their current circumstances: the four of them, covered in muck, isolated from the rest of their cadets, who were probably conducting private study, or using their free time as it was intended to be spent: relaxing.

"Armin." Annie said, monotone. "You've got a black eye."

It was the most obvious thing in the world, because Armin found himself relying on his left side. His right eye was swollen shut and purple, tinged yellow in places. "Oh." He uttered, his cheeks burning. He flashed a small side, as Eren and Mikasa stood within earshot: Eren eager to eavesdrop, Mikasa urging him not to. "I'm okay."

Annie's lips dipped into a slight frown.

"I think I'm going to check out the infirmary." Eren suddenly declared, inspecting his forearms upon the discovery of four slashes, running from his elbow, down to the back of his wrist. "I have no idea how you did this," he grimaced, staring wide-eyed at Armin, "but you must've caught me somehow. Your nails are the worst- how?!"

* * *

Eren and Mikasa disappeared just before noon but didn't return to the training grounds, leaving a pair of sparring partners alone. Armin was relieved that he didn't have to face Mikasa, like Eren had originally planned, though he wouldn't mind fighting against Annie, even in his bruised state.

The duo took some time out of their day to find a place to sit, somewhere they could be together without having to fight or study or work. In the end, they probably walked a bit too far away from their original spot – behind the boys' dormitories – but they didn't mind too much. They were still within the fenced enclosure marking campus grounds.

Armin often found himself wandering out to the meadow, where small daisies grew among purple asters. It was the perfect place for him to lose himself between the covers of a book, and he was certain it was the perfect place for him to dedicate himself to solving Annie; to figuring out the enigma the she protected herself with. Her walls, her barriers. Her resistance to friendships, and her initial solidarity in loneliness.

He carefully lowered himself down onto the grass, lying on his back. Free of his uniform, he unbuttoned his shirt collar and took a deep breath, opening his good eye to make sure Annie had run away. She hadn't. She stood over him, peering down.

"What's wrong?" Armin raised an eyebrow, a little concerned.

"Nothing."

"Don't you like it here?"

The girl broke eye contact, surveying the area quickly, almost anxiously. "It's... nice." She decided, but her muscles didn't relax. She hadn't bothered to wash the blood off her lips, where Mikasa had kicked a little too well, busting the corner of her mouth. "Quaint. And quiet."

"I thought you liked quiet." Armin tried, patting the space beside him. "Come on. We can relax here. I come here all the time to read."

It took all the strength coursing through Annie's veins to keep her rooted to the spot. Such an invitation was dangerous. True, they'd been spending more and more time together, but this was different. They weren't studying, they weren't fighting. They'd be together for togetherness' sake.

"I-" She frowned, preparing an excuse. A reason to rush back to the girls' dorms, but she held her tongue, pausing. "Fine." She relented. "But only if you visit the infirmary afterwards. You need your eye checked out."

Armin's heart skipped a beat. "Okay. Deal." He managed, his tongue thick in his throat, hard to talk around. His nerves worked right back up, paranoia and excitement rattling around inside his head, making his chest feel too tight, too warm – too uncomfortable, but ecstatic all at once. Annie hesitantly laid beside him, keeping a respectable distance without resorting to her default offstandish behaviour and moving too far away.

They didn't speak much for the rest of the afternoon. Not until Annie demanded the fulfillment of Armin's end of the bargain, and together they trudged back to the infirmary, but not without a small aster tucked behind Annie's ear. Tangled between strands of dirty hair, Armin hadn't been thinking entirely straight when he first reached out to touch her, plucking the flower from nearby, his fingers hot against the shell of her ear. The contact made her flinch, and he immediately felt guilty, coming back to his senses, but she hardened herself and shot him a strange look – one he hadn't seen before. For a few seconds, Annie revealed her vulnerability; her fear of human contact, her dysfunctional behaviour within social situations, her inability to make fast friendships with anyone. And Armin stared back with his single functioning eye, a wave of self-consciousness and regret washing over him. But Annie didn't pull away. She let him continue, and he steadied the flower, securing it behind her ear, and when he offered a smile he swore she returned it for a millisecond or two.

Away from the battlefield, Armin had found their compromise in a place where punches where replaced with petals: sweet, amicable silence, and perhaps Annie would talk more in the future. He could only dream.


	4. Coming To Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The oncoming graduation ceremony triggers an argument, leaving tensions high before the cadets learn what it's truly like to be a soldier.

Graduation came sooner than anyone anticipated. Long, hazy summer days spent training were quickly replaced with gradings of all kind; assessments on physique and power, on skill with a blade and the ability to recover quickly on the battlefield. Of course, the most important part of examination regarded the ability to disable titan dummies with speed and efficiency, without causing harm to oneself, or to anyone else. Armin was happiest during the theoretical portion of their gradings, in which he was rumoured to come at the top of the class without even trying. He once overheard Shadis discussing results with a co-worker. 

“As for Arlert... he's something like Smith, I reckon,” Shadis muttered from inside his office. Armin felt a surge of pride swell within his chest – to be akin to Erwin Smith, commander of the Survey corps – he could wish for no higher praise. “Of course,” Shadis continued, and Armin's heart suddenly dropped down to his stomach. “He's considerably weaker than Smith was during training. Hell, most of the girls in this damn squad are giving him a run for his money. Top of the class, even without academic prowess, is Ackerman, and second to her is Leonhardt. Or at least, she should be, if only she'd try a little harder, goddamn it, but she's got nothing to prove to any of us. The girls are strong this year, just like the last bunch.” 

So Armin wasn't supposed to be a titan killer, not that he really minded. That wasn't why he joined the military. He just wanted to be beside Eren and Mikasa, to aid humanity in their fight against the titans in whatever small ways he could manage. Theoretical prowess suited him just fine.

A few nights before their graduation ceremony he was met with a nasty surprise: presentations on His Royal Mahesty's three military branches. The eponymous Military Police, composed of only the strongest and most capable of graduates, who were rumoured to be inadequate at best. Their death toll always falls just short of double figures, each and every year. The Garrison, holding the majority of recruits year after year, in charge of maintaining the walls and holding the line against abhorrent titans who attacked humanity's territories. Their fatalities usually resulted from airheaded soldiers falling from the walls, being killed upon impact after failing to maintain their gear or running out of gas. The Survey Corps, who left each annual graduation ceremony undersubscribed, having the lowest survival rate in the entire military. Survey Corps soldiers often died on their first mission outside of the walls. 

The presentations were minimalistic and concise, offering only a quick insight into each career path, acting as preludes to the oncoming graduation. Nevertheless, Armin was worried. He stood beside Annie the whole time, watching as her eyes flashed with something untraceable whenever the police were mentioned. 

As soon as the presentations ended the crowd of cadets began to dissipate, and Armin turned on Annie.   
“So,” he cleared his throat, trying to sound casual. “Have you got a branch in mind?”  
“Military Police.” Annie didn't hesitate, sounding resolute. She refused to look him in the eye, still staring dead ahead at the stage upon which a Survey Corps representative was standing. “You're planning on going in with the scouts, aren't you? With Eren?”   
Armin nodded, feeling bile rise in his throat. He felt sick. “Yes. Eren needs someone to ground him, and the scouts-”  
“He's got Mikasa for that.” Annie interrupted. She paused for a few seconds, before turning her back on the stage and stepping away from Armin. “You're not as strong as him. Or as quick-witted on the battlefield. You should consider the Garrison instead.”   
Armin shook his head, closing the distance between them to place a hand on her shoulder. The air suddenly felt a lot colder, a lot more hostile. “I'm nothing compared to either of them, but my plans work out more often than not. The Garrison are going to have enough soldiers without needing me to strategise for them.”  
“So you think you're going to survive outside the walls, and rise up the ranks quick enough to work from inside whatever headquarters they've established out there?” Annie pushed his hand away, spinning around on her heel to glare up at him. “You think you're going to be the next Smith, huh? Whenever they mentioned his name you were practically starstruck. You're not strong enough for the scouts.”

Armin was usually a relaxed person. He wasn't the type to get angry - he fell, he cried, he didn't fight back - but something about her stance and the fire blazing behind the iciness of her eyes triggered the urge to retaliate. She was tugging and tearing at his heartstrings in an attempt to have him reconsider. She wanted him to concede. He squared his shoulders and swallowed hard. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared.” He declared, perhaps a little too loudly, drawing the attention of Jean and Marco, over by the Military Police representative.   
Annie laughed, which would usually cause Armin to rejoice and celebrate, because she never laughed, but this time it was hollow. Empty. “I guess that proves it.” She scowled, eyes narrowed. “I guess you still know nothing about me, even after all of our training.”   
“And you know nothing about me,” Armin pressed on. He wasn't going to lose, not this one. “That stings a little, I won't lie.”   
Annie folded her arms over her chest decisively. “That settles it. From now on, I'm no longer obliged to train with you. Good luck with graduating.” She told him, complete with a sneer in her tone and a glare in her eyes. “You can't get through on brains alone.”   
And off she strode, just as Jean had gathered up the courage to act on his curiosity.   
“Oi, Armin.” He called, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Having a lover's spat, are we?” He nodded towards Annie's retreating figure.   
Armin winced, shaking his head furiously. “Nothing of a sort.” He insisted. If he and Annie were anywhere close enough to be considered “lovers,” he'd hate to find out how she treated her enemies. 

-

Armin didn't see much of her after that. The next few days were spent cooped up in classrooms, with rows upon rows of students hunched over test papers. Armin was in his element, determined to pass with flying colours – for the written assessments, at least – the practical portion was over and done with. 

Or so Armin thought. 

One morning, the cadets were sent out to work on Wall Rose due to a shortage in Garrison soldiers. Something about a freak accident involving some high explosive shells. Three soldiers ended up dead, and nine more were hospitalised. 

Armin was busy loading some cannons with Marco, under strict orders to keep all artillery loaded at all times. The townspeople were always fearing the worst; housing was limited and food shortages still plagued the outer districts. They were living in bleak times.   
“These young 'uns, I 'ope they're joinin' the Garrison.” One man had bellowed as they walked through the Trost district, marching in lines. “The Corps ain't even protectin' us. They're just- stealin' our food, fillin' their bellies.”   
His teenage daughter elbowed him in the stomach, quietening him with a shrill yell. Armin only wished the citizens under His Royal Majesty's service knew the truth about the military, about the police and how they were always in complete disarray. The scouts were the closest thing humanity had to a guardian, acting as a driving force behind the battle against the titans.   
“Marco, do you still want to go to the police?” Armin asked as they marched with firearms slung over their shoulders. “Graduation's tomorrow. We need to decide.”   
Marco chuckled to himself, glancing down at Armin from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I know. It's a strange thought. The rest of our lives start tomorrow, and we're going to have to decide how we're going to live. Or if we're going to live at all, I suppose.” He paused, sighing before laughing again. “I'm still going with the police, I think. If I rank high enough.”   
It was nice to hear someone laugh in a genuine manner. “You're a good leader.” Armin offered, coming to a standstill as their squad reached the outermost section of Wall Rose. “Don't you think your talents would be useful elsewhere? In the Garrison, maybe?”  
“No, not really.” Marco frowned. “If I want to use my talents, I'll be better off as far away from the titans as possible. I know you and Eren want to go into the Survey Corps, and that's- well, I think it's really brave of you. To want to sacrifice your life for better days to come.”   
“We won't necessarily be sacrificing-”  
“Good luck to you, anyway.” Marco held out the hand that wasn't balancing his firearm. Armin shook it awkwardly, trying to keep the barrel steady on his thin frame.   
“Thanks.” He murmured. “You too. If anyone deserves the good life, it's you.” 

The few rows of cadets in front of Armin had already started their ascent of Wall Rose, digging their grappling hooks into the smooth surface, abseiling upwards in order to conserve gas. He spun his firearm over so it hung over his back, preparing himself to make the climb, when an ear-piercing scream shattered their reality and knocked them into an entirely new world, a place where they were no longer children but soldiers.


	5. Those Born of Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and Marco are forced to come to terms with the reality of military service, coming face to face with a nightmare from Armin's past.

The blood in Armin's veins froze over. His heart stammered, skipping beats in a messy, uneven rhythm that was making it hard for his lungs to hold in air.

"What was that?" He stepped away from Wall Rose, eyes darting around nervously. "That scream- it was nearby- it was a girl's."

Marco had the hooks of his maneuver gear lodged halfway up the wall. "Another accident?" He murmured, kicking the heels of his feet away from the stone. "We haven't received orders to change our course of action. This stuff probably happens all the time."

Armin wasn't so sure. He hesitated, trying to pinpoint a scuffle, a crowd of commotion atop the wall- anything that would confirm his fears and validate his worry.

"Armin?" Marco raised an eyebrow, frowning. "We need to go, we can't-"

A second scream caught their attention.

"Something's wrong." Armin muttered, struggling to untangle himself from his rifle. "We're recruits- this isn't required from us until we graduate- something's wrong and we need to figure out what." He threw his weapon onto the ground.

Marco swallowed, shaking his head. "You're getting all worked up for nothing, stop being paranoid. Whatever's going on will just have to be dealt with by the higher ups. We're here to do a job, and we should-"

A flash of lightning blinded the pair for a few seconds. In the confusion, Marco fumbled with his suspension gear and ended up retracting the metal hooks. He fell the few feet he'd climbed, landing on the ground in a heap. His hooks snapped back into his belt, jerking his hips violently as he lay dazed.

On the other side of the Trost district was a monster, peering over Wall Rose as if it were a flimsy garden fence. In the five years since Armin had last seen it, the monster had become no less grotesque or as horrifying. From where he stood, he could just about make out the rancid, skinless flesh of the monster's face.

"Is that-" Marco spluttered as he pushed himself up on his arms. "Is that- is that the-"

"The C-Colossal Titan!" Armin's legs almost gave out. He was only half aware of the blood that ran down his cheek as a result of one of Marco's wayward suspension hooks.

The monster was silent as it observed the little market town. All of the military and the citizens collectively held their breath, watching the titan with fearful eyes, as it watched them with bloodlust and hunger.

Armin closed his eyes, fighting back an onslaught of suppressed memories. His eyes began to water and his lips trembled. This monster had taken everything from him: his grandparents, his home and his heritage, his childhood, and now it was back for more. It was back for Eren and Mikasa. It was back for Jean and the other soldiers who grew up happy and healthy in Trost. It was back for Annie, and all of the other innocent humans it hadn't met back in Shinganshina.

"Run." Armin wheezed as he finally regained his senses, rushing to help pick Marco up off the ground. Marco groaned and heaved, standing on shaking legs. He leant heavily on Armin, who wasn't strong enough to support both of their weights whilst maintaining any sort of respectable speed. As the two of them hobbled away from the wall and into the centre of Trost, the Colossal Titan reared back its ugly head and slammed its foot against Wall Rose.

 _Once-_ the ground shook beneath them and Armin struggled to maintain his balance with Marco hanging precariously off his shoulder, coughing up blood.

 _Twice-_ the monster broke through and all hell broke loose. People started screaming, running- men abandoning their wives and wives abandoning their children in an attempt to save their own skins. Wall Rose had been breached and humanity was yet again endangered by the most impervious of foes.

* * *

Somewhere amid the havoc, Armin and Marco stumbled in Jean, who immediately rushed to their aid, spouting riddles upon riddles of questions as he did.

"Armin!" He hollered from down the street, caught in a small crowd of panicking civilians. "Armin! Marco!"

"Jean!" Armin cried, waiting for the taller boy to catch up as he barged his way past a small gaggle of churchgoers.

A woman bearing a necklace with a concentric charm of rings hanging at her chest started howling her prayers even louder. "This is our punishment! The angels of death are upon us! Humanity will pay for its promiscuity and rage!"

Jean battled his way to Marco's side, offered to take him from Armin's shoulder. "What happened?" He spat. Strings of blood and saliva ran down from the corners of Marco's lips. "Why is he bleeding?"

"He fell from the wall, he was about seven feet high- it wasn't much but I think he landed awkwardly. He might have punctured an organ or something." Armin rushed over his words, relieved to have some sort of help. Jean was careful with how he positioned Marco, lifting him onto his shoulder, carrying him in a more efficient manner than Armin was.

Marco grunted. "I'm sorry..." he moaned, clutching the back of Jean's jacket. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Yeah, yeah- save it for the medics!" Jean chided, darting off down the street. "Come on Arlert! We've gotta' head to the town square to find the Garrison squad members- there's no way in hell they'd let trainees off the hook with something as big as this! We could be dead before we even graduate!"

Armin almost shuddered at the thought. "Yeah, but- if we can manage something like this, we'll be rising through the ranks in no time." He had to sprint just to keep up with Jean, who slipped down a darkened alley.

"And here I was thinking you were smart!" Jean scoffed. "This is a shortcut, we should be there just about-"

Sure enough, having a former resident of Trost as a guide was a stroke of luck for Armin. The trio arrived at the town centre in record time, but the scene they were met with was one of unadulterated horror. A small cart was already loaded with three bodies wrapped in white bloodstained sheets; Sasha and a few other of their training squad comrades were sitting underneath a small medical tent, taking orders from a young doctor who was tending to a boy with a hook through his foot. A few of the other trainees were hunched over in corners, wailing, crying, some even vomiting across their own shoes.

A boy was chanting from beside Armin, curled in on himself with his back to a wall. "I don't want to die like her- I don't want to do this anymore-  _it ripped her arms off her shoulders and twisted her torso and waist apart-"_

"Armin!"

The young soldier almost yelped as he was knocked out of his thoughts by someone seizing his shoulders in vice-like grips. "Eren!" Armin cried, coming face to face with olive skin and forest-green eyes. "You're alive- you're okay!"

"'Course I am!" Eren all but yelled, and Armin winced, his ears ringing slightly. "I fought it! I came face-to-face with it on top of Wall Rose!"

"The Colossal Titan?" Armin gawked, his hand jumping to his chest in surprise. "You could've have, you'd-"

"I jumped right on it, straight after the flash!" Eren grinned, wide-eyed with excitement and adrenaline. "Come on! We're in the same squad, we're going to face the titans!"

Jean, who'd remained more or less silent as he helped Marco down to his feet, rolled his eyes at Eren's enthusiasm. "If you hadn't realised, we're all going to die here, hours away from graduating, idiot. Get a hold of yourself, this is war!" He snapped.

Eren was about to retaliate when Armin asked "where's Mikasa?", which piqued Jean's interest too. "She's been assigned to an elite squad, along with the Garrison. Apparently she's do to come top in our class, the south division."

"You should be proud-" Jean's tone soured and his lips curdled into a scowl. "Your half-sister, coming top! Don't sound so bitter!"

"She's not my sister, we're not related!" Eren shot back just as fiercely. "We lived together and that's it! You don't know what it's like having a girl with the strength of a titan staying with the family!"

"Alright, alright!" Armin frowned miserably. "We're wasting time- aren't you going to take Marco to see a medic, Jean?"

Marco grimaced. "I'd like that, please." He was breathing heavily, his clothes drenched in sweat. Jean was still scowling.

"Yeah, sure." He nodded. "Just make sure he doesn't get you killed out there, Arlert." He hissed, nodding his head towards Eren before stalking off with Marco hanging off his arm.

"The hell's his problem?" Eren grunted.

"We're in Trost." Armin supplied, sounding a little meek. "His hometown. He's probably worried sick. I mean, we were."

Eren paused, lapsing into silence for a few seconds. Armin watched as a reluctant realisation fell upon his best friend's features. "That was then." He decided, finding his voice. "This is now. We're stronger and tougher. We don't have anything to worry about when we're facing the titans- not us, not Jean, not anyone. Come on."

Eren sped off in the same direction which Armin and Jean had came, before Armin could ask about the three shrouded bodies laid to rest on a cart numbered two.

* * *

Eren and Armin's squad had a few other members: Mina Carolina, who Armin recognised as an occasional associate of Annie's; Thomas Wagner, Mylius Zeramuski, and Nac Tius. Together, the six of them took the rooftops of Trost in order to try and gain an aerial advantage over their targets. Within the first fifteen minutes since the wall's encroachment, titans were already swarming Trost.

"Are you sure we can do this?" Armin readied his blades, pulling a pair from the containers on his hips. They'd only ever attacked titan dummies. Moving targets were completely foreign territory.

"Of course!" Eren insisted. He'd been wielding his swords ever since their group first gathered, eager to begin his assault on the titans. "We're stronger than they are- smarter- they don't stand a chance, not now! Not ever!" He grinned, baring his teeth like a feral dog on a hunt. "We'll never go back to being as helpless as we were back then! This is for Shiganshina!"

Armin still wasn't convinced, but nevertheless he plastered an uneasy smile across his lips and carried on running, trying to concentrate on keeping his footing on the uneven terracotta slates beneath them. "By the way- have you seen Annie anywhere?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"Dunno." Eren frowned. "Probably with Mikasa? She scored really highly too, according to Shadis."

"Annie's in another squad." Mina piped up for the first time since regrouping. "With Ymir, Christa, Bertolt, Reiner and Jean, I believe."

Armin breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear." He smiled. "And Shadis is here, too?"

"Yeah. He was monitoring our work from atop the wall, but now he's organising our positions and stuff from the centre." Answered Thomas, whose eyes suddenly lit up along with the grin he wore on his lips. "Say- about the Shiganshina thing, Eren- not all of us are from your district, so how about we mix things up a little?"

"I'm listening." Eren nodded, leading the way as he leapt from one building to the next, shooting his grappling hooks into the roofing of a small townhouse. The rest of his group followed, and Thomas fought to catch up.

"So, as I was saying, we'll make things a little more interesting. The person to kill the most titans wins, and the glory of today's accomplishments go to their district. How about it?"

"I'm in, baby." Grinned Nac, chortling to himself. "So long as you're all ready to pledge your allegiance to Klorva."

Mina faked a yawn and almost lost her balance in the process. "You all know Karanesse breeds the strongest of soldiers!"

Eren jumped right back into the debate, all bright eyes and toothy smiles. "For Shiganshina!" He yelled again, holding one of his swords high above his head.

Armin smiled, feeling ever fond of Eren and his comrades, even though he hadn't mixed with Mina and Thomas too much in the past. This was their first brave step moving into the adult world that they'd chosen, albeit without much choice. Still, he couldn't help but notice Mylius, who trailed slightly behind the rest of his squad, looking nervous beyond reason. He didn't partake in any show of patriotism for his district, nor did he seem as ready or willing.

"Mylius?" Armin probed as they jumped across to another row of terraced houses.

Mylius made a strange, guttural noise from the back of his throat. "God, let's just get this over with- I'm ready to leave this hellhole!"

Armin didn't try to speak to him again.


End file.
